


bluebell beads

by maketea



Series: fictober 2019 [4]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Birthdays, F/M, Fictober 2019, Fluff, Hugs, Identity Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 20:50:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20895920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maketea/pseuds/maketea
Summary: ladybug, under no circumstances, would cry on her birthday.





	bluebell beads

**Author's Note:**

> day four: “i know you didn’t ask for this.”

Ladybug, under no circumstances, would cry on her birthday.

Nonetheless, she flicked some tears off her mask before taking a sip of her can of Coke. She was lucky, wasn’t she? Not many people could say they spent their sixteenth birthday at the top of the Eiffel Tower, overlooking the black cabs, the speeding rickshaws, the remnants of tourism as it neared midnight. Not many people could be superheroes on their sixteenth birthday, but there she was: living their dreams.

She took another sip of her Coke. It wasn’t a bad day.

In fact, after spoiling her breakfast with a handmade birthday cake at 11AM, Marinette thought it would be a brilliant day. The rain had cleared up overnight and summer was finally playing its part, so she didn’t need to pull on her dressing gown before going to the kitchen. 

Though she may have had some second thoughts when her mother let Adrien in.

“Happy birthday, Marinette!” he said in the living room doorway while Marinette lay sprawled on the couch, dressed only in her singlet with cake on her cheek.

It took her a moment to gather her bearings, albeit only enough to sit up and cover her collarbones with a blanket. “A-Adrien! I didn’t expect you so early!”

“Actually, I kinda wanted a chance to talk to you alone.” 

_ Alone! _ Marinette almost fainted back into the couch — partly because  _ Adrien wanted to talk to her alone,  _ though she also had a niggling feeling she was close to a cake-induced coma.

"Oh, you have something—" He pointed at her cheek. “Is that cake?”

Well, Marinette had experienced worse.

Once she had wiped her face, rearranged herself on the sofa, and pulled the blanket over her abdomen, Adrien took a seat beside her. He handed her a pink gift bag with her name handwritten on the tag.

“The fabric!” Marinette cried, tugging it out. She hugged it to herself. “Oh, how did you find it?”

Adrien laughed. “I have my ways.”

“I love it so much, oh my God.”

And she really did. Marinette had searched through every fabric shop she could get to, filed through hundreds of cheap charity shop clothes, even gritted her teeth and logged into a fabric site where delivery was seven euros, and never had she found her favorite pink-spotted cotton. She hugged it again, if only to stop herself leaping across the couch and hugging Adrien, instead.

“Oh, what was it you wanted to talk about?” she asked, and glanced through the doorway. “We’re… alone, now.”

_ This was it this was it this was it this was it. _

“Well… this is kind of embarrassing, actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The girl I like… it’s her birthday today, too, and I couldn’t get her the gift she wanted. Could you maybe… help me make her something?”

That was about the time when Marinette’s day got a little less brilliant.

She swallowed hard. “Sure!” she said. “I’d love to!”

Thinking about it, Ladybug scoffed. She was an awful liar. Either Adrien pitied her too much to ask about it, or he really was as dense as everyone said.

She was unbelievable. Why did she help him? Marinette should have told him her sewing machine broke, or she ran out of accessories, or that her room was just very, very messy. But ‘should’ and ‘could’ were two very different things, and Marinette knew she couldn’t turn Adrien away. 

Not only couldn’t she turn him away, but Marinette took all her materials out for him. The red silk she bought with her last pocket money, the ribbons she used for her Ladybug doll, and tubs of beads she never took out unless she was making a gift — which she and Adrien were doing. For the girl he liked.

While she sewed the red silk for him, Marinette caught Adrien staring at a box of shiny bluebell beads.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, sorry.” Blushing, he glanced away. “They’re just the same colour as her eyes.”

Marinette took a deep breath before turning back to her sewing machine. She wished he looked at her long enough to realise they were the same colour as her eyes, too.

All together, her chest ached the worst for about forty five minutes. Alya came, after that, stuffed her, Adrien, and a few too many others into the back of a rickshaw and biked them around Paris. They laughed together — especially when Marinette almost fell out of the rickshaw and Nino and Adrien had to pull her back — and Ladybug’s cheeks still ached from how much she was smiling.

So, it had been a nice day, she mused while watching a woman below push her pram along the street. Even if it ended with her standing atop the Eiffel Tower and crying. 

Ladybug opened her yo-yo and glanced at the time. Adrien must have met with the girl, by now. Handed her the silk red pouchful of bluebell beads and given her a hug. Of course, Ladybug wasn’t certain he would have hugged her, but it seemed like an Adrien thing to do. 

Being loved by him must have been so beautiful. Ladybug should feel happy for that girl. There was absolutely no reason for her to be crying, instead. 

A figure dropped down beside her. “My Lady!”

Ladybug raised her Coke can in greeting. “Hey, Chat Noir.”

He watched as she took a long sip, mostly to hide her wobbly bottom lip.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. He was holding a small bundle, about the size of his hand, wrapped in brown paper and tied with white string. 

She rubbed at a stray tear. “Don’t be silly. It’s my birthday — why would anything be wrong?”

Chat Noir opened his mouth, then closed it again. He didn’t seem convinced, but Ladybug’s wet cheeks and weak smile weren’t that convincing in the first place. 

Before he could press any further, she glanced down at the bundle. “I really hope you didn’t spend too much money on me.”

“On the contrary”—he thrust the bundle towards her—“it’s handmade!”

“Oh?” She took it, leaving her Coke can on the railing, and began undoing the string.

Ladybug knew the bundle couldn’t possibly fit the fabric, and for that, she was glad. She let her birthday slip out only the night before, when she had to cancel patrol for Alya’s plans. He begged her to tell him what he should get her, and every time she refused he insisted harder. In the end, she told him about the pink-spotted cotton — the one Adrien bought her already — but she doubted he’d get his hands on it. Really, she didn’t think Adrien would, either.

Ladybug was well aware that somewhere, hidden in the year and a half of their partnership, she had missed Chat Noir’s birthday, and it didn’t feel fair to take a store-bought gift from him when she didn’t make an effort to do the same.

She pulled back the brown paper, and her mouth dropped.

Inside was a small pouch, made of the red silk she bought with her last pocket money.

“Look inside,” he said softly.

She didn’t need to. Ladybug already knew exactly what she’d find. With shaky hands, she untied the ribbon, stretched the pouch open, and reached in to take out the bracelet made out of bluebell beads.

Ladybug should have said something, but she still wasn’t too clear on her shoulds and coulds, so all she did was stare.

“I-I know you didn’t ask for this,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “but my friend had been wanting the same fabric as you for months, and there was only one pack left in stock.”

“No!” She almost jumped up. “No, no — I adore this. It’s more than I could’ve asked for.”

His face brightened. “R-really? I know it isn’t anything big, but—”

“But I still love it so much.” She pushed her hand through the bracelet and held the bluebell beads up to the city lights. “Look how pretty it is!”

“It suits you. Especially your eyes.”

Ladybug’s heart did a little flip. 

Adrien was there, giving the girl he liked her birthday gift. Handed her a brown paper package and then watched her marvel at the beads glinting against the sky. 

“Chat Noir?” 

“Hm?”

“Can the birthday girl have a hug?”

He took his hands off the railings and laughed. “Is it your birthday, or mine?” 

And without waiting for a response, Chat Noir stepped forward, and enveloped her in his arms. 

It was a rather Adrien thing to do.


End file.
